


skip to the good part

by Noscere



Category: XCOM (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Post-Canon, Who Lives Who Dies Who Tells Your Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:00:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28068963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noscere/pseuds/Noscere
Summary: Long after the Liberation War, Lily Shen makes a pilgrimage to a certain spot on Mont Royal. It's where the Commander and Central are, after all.
Relationships: John "Central" Bradford & Commander (XCOM), Lily Shen & Commander, Lily Shen & John "Central" Bradford
Kudos: 7





	skip to the good part

There’s a memorial for the Commander and Central in the heart of XCOM’s main North American base, but Lily has never liked visiting. The Commander is stern and stiff in stone, and a somber Central stands in her shadow. There is none of the laughter that lined Central’s eyes in his later years, none of the bittersweet smell of pomelos and tea that permeated the Commander’s kitchen.

At least Central’s statue had his beloved sweater. The Commander was stuck with the Invasion era's scratchy as hell shirt.

“You would hate it,” Lily tells the rustle of willows. Crickets sing in the sweet summer air, serenading the rabbits of Mont Royal and the ruins of Montreal to sleep. “Central, you’re a whole five inches taller than the Commander’s statue. You weren’t that much taller!”

She curls up on the knitted blanket. In his last years, Central tried to fend off the shakes and loss of dexterity with handicrafts. Lily has far too many lumpy scarves in her closet, but they are proof that the man who held XCOM together for 20 years once lived.

“Jeez, I live in San Francisco for a reason. It’s chilly here.” Lily sips from her mug of _ti kwan yin_ tea. In her last years, the Commander drank more bitter than sweet teas. “I think this might be my first vacation in years, and here I am, spending my time with you geezers.”

The breeze shakes the willow leaves. It steals away the smoke swirling lazily up from the incense. The portrait of Central and Commander stands rooted to the earth, unmoved by the wind.

“Wow, Central, this is the quietest you’ve been in years!” Lily laughs. “Never thought I’d miss your nagging. I definitely don’t miss your flying. Did you know people can land without almost crashing? And some people do it for a living? Thank goodness Firebrand never gave up the sky.”

Although Montreal is still quiet, there are whispers that its former citizens plan to rebuild her. It’s here that Lily finds the Commander and Central: not somewhere finished and primed, like the new Alpha Base, but in the shadows of somewhere still growing, still living, still a work in progress.

“I do my best, but I don’t think it’s enough,” Lily admits, “we’re careening into another war. All I can do is help out the humanitarian teams and pray cooler heads prevail.” She blows on her tea. “Wish you were here, Commander. You’d probably knock heads together until people stopped swinging their guns around.”

Far below Lily’s perch on the mountain, the Fleuve St-Laurent churns. An owl hoots somewhere in the woods.

“If someone drops dead, I’ll know that’s Central finally losing his cool,” she muses. “I don’t know if you’d cheer him on or hold him back, Commander.”

A raccoon screams.

“Cheer him on, got it. Come on, Commander, just because you’re dead doesn’t mean you won’t have to mop up the mess too. I’ll take away your wifi.” Lily holds a paper cut-out of a smartphone to the incense’s flame. “I don’t know if you’re actually getting signal in the afterlife, but I figure it can’t hurt. Maybe you can send a message to the Council. _If you don’t start acting your age, I’ll lead the zombie revolution to kick your ass._ ”

Little of her home’s customs survived the twenty years of occupation, but Lily clings to what she can. She still wears red for the new year, distributes red envelopes to her employees and their children, wears white for mourning and eats the whole fish for wealth. There are fewer people who can speak Cantonese now, and even fewer who speak Taiwanese.

Lily will burn a picture of a GREMLIN at her father’s shrine back in San Francisco. Montreal is for the Commander, who was born and raised and razed her beloved city to give the Earth two more months to resist the aliens. Montreal is for Central, who was a constant presence at his beloved Commander’s side wherever she went. Never her shadow: the Commander and Central were two parts of a greater whole.

To the east, the tide pulls the Fleuve St Laurent into the ocean’s salty embrace.

“It’s been a rough year. Haven’t really seen much of the others,” Lily says to break the silence. “No, I’ve been eating enough, Commander. And I swear I’m getting at least five hours of sleep. It’s just… it’s a lot of responsibility. I’m fifty now. I’m the adult, and I have kids, and I… I don’t know how you managed this. I just try my best and I know it’s not enough, but what else can I do? I wish you guys could help me out. But you were old, and nobody lasts forever…” She wipes the sudden tears away. “It’s a lot,” she finishes lamely.

The wind whispers around her hair. A lock of hair tucks itself behind her ear.

Lily’s watch beeps. 9 PM.

She licks her fingertips, and pinches the incense. The smoke swirls around her hand as she packs away the offerings.

“I think about you guys still. I live the way I think you’d want me to. It’s the way I want, that’s for sure.” Lily settles back onto her haunches. “And I hope when we see each other again… you’ll all be proud of what I’ve done.”

The grass rustles.

Lily smiles. “I’ll see you again,” she says, and rises from the ground.

Volk is waiting at the base of the hill, the outdated gun he refuses to abandon still slung over his shoulder. It pays to be cautious when there are still Lost roaming around. The rest of her XCOM escort is scattered around the area on patrol.

“Good talk?” he asks, straightening up from his post. He offers her a gloved hand as she clambers over fallen logs.

She takes his hand. “I think they enjoyed it. Let’s get back to base. I still have to set up the turrets for the city.”

Volk scoffs, though there’s no heat in his voice. “There’s really no substitute for a good old relic of the past. You and your automation.”

Lily looks back to the hill.

“No, there isn’t. But you gotta move forward eventually,” she says, and begins down the path to New Montreal.

**Author's Note:**

> Song title from He is We's "Skip to the Good Part."
> 
> Yes, Lily has kids, some adopted and some not. Some are robots and some are not. Family can be whatever you want it to be!


End file.
